And the last shilling disappears in stamps.
Nor weightier cares you lack, it is decreed;
The clock won’t go, the chickens will not feed,
The pump, always a huffy ancient, swears,
“Water? if you wants water, try elsewheres”:
The infant wonder, she who must inquire,
Investigates herself into the fire,
The playful snowball whizzes through the pane,
In brief, you try to kick the cat: in vain.
Here no such troubles blot the almanac